We are in what I like to call the “honeymoon” period of a Louisiana Spring. The flowers are blooming. My husband’s garden is thriving:
And the temperate weather is just enough make me foolishly optimistic. The yard and garden sure don’t seem like that much of a chore when it’s only 80 degrees outside.
But deep down, I know it’s coming.
The heat…dear God, the heat. By mid-June, I know my currently euphoric love of the outdoors will morph into bitter misery.
I’m already a big sissy when it comes to the oppressive Louisiana heat, but last summer traumatized us all. We had months of temperatures over 100 degrees (often reaching 110) and absolutely no rain. The record breaking heat and drought destroyed lawns, landscaping, trees, and crops. Our electric bill nearly put us in the poorhouse, and our kids dang near went stir crazy because they couldn’t play outside for most of the day. When we tried cooling off, we failed. Even if we waited until late evening to swim, the pool was still hotter than most people’s bath water. I really, really do not want to relive that.
Every year, a beautiful Spring makes me hope that maybe, just maybe Summer won’t be so bad. Maybe we won’t be constantly confined, or burning our hands on scorching seatbelt buckles, or dreading the double whammy of excruciating electric and water bills. Maybe my poor husband will be able to mow the lawn without the real danger of heatstroke. Maybe we will be pleasantly surprised.
And maybe pigs will fly…*sigh*